Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Afghanistan and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Harry Pussy to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Chris & Cosey tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pole record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Public Image Ltd.,
Michelle Simonal,
Porter Ricks,
The Cramps,
The Sonics,
Mandrill,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Rosa Yemen,
June of 44,
Hot Snakes,
The Searchers,
Agent Orange,
Eric Dolphy,
Faust,
Ponytail,
Los Fastidios,
Smog,
Marvin Gaye,
The Last Poets,
Roxy Music,
H. Thieme,
Black Bananas,
Khruangbin,
Black Sheep,
Dark Day,
the Human League,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lindisfarne,
Circle Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Black Flag,
Lee Hazlewood,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Moleskins,
John Holt,
Reuben Wilson,
Slave,
The Smoke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Infiniti,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Bauhaus,
Saccharine Trust,
Piero Umiliani,
Jerry's Kids,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scratch Acid,
Girls At Our Best!,
Ornette Coleman,
Fad Gadget,
Lightning Bolt,
The Slits,
Swans,
Sonic Youth,
Connie Case,
James White and The Blacks,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.